In October 2016, I wrote:
On October 3, 2016 I wrote:
Opening up to defining myself as ace and what that means to me feels relieving right now.
• I have found my identity that really explains to me who I am now.
• Life is fluid and so am I.
• Every stage of my life has been magical, deep, rich.
Touch me life, not softly. – Maya Angelou
• I have experienced joy, lust, juice, frenzy, quiet, cozy, lovely, scary, gutsy, sensual heterosexual love.
• I have witnessed and been astounded by the earthy, gorgeous beauty of my body carrying and birthing two children.
• I have had crushes on men and women, madness, deep love, incredulous love, frustrating love, zany love.
• I have been happily married.
• I have been heartbroken.
• Though I have experienced heartache and trauma, I am not ace because of those experiences.
• I experienced intense freedom and a feeling of coming home when the pain of divorce finally subsided.
• I have been single since 2001. No- scratch that, I’ve been me since 1962.
• I have zero interest in sexual relationships.
• I still love me though and my ever shifting body.
• I have zero interest in getting to know someone romantically.
• I do have crushes on minds.
• And I admit, I have romantic types- the whole gamut from Louis CK to Idris Elba and Tom Hardy, to Tilda Swinton, Janna Levin and Twyla Tharp, to Stephen Fry to Lynda Barry— you see what’s happening here- it’s about characters they portray or who they are in their lives or how they talk when they are being interviewed. It’s not real life.
• The overarching crush though, I suppose, is Lol in This is England.
• But it shifts from having a crush to wanting to look like her. Yeah, I want to look like her, wear Fred Perry clothes, maybe hang out as twins. Kick some people in the ass or on the chin with shit covered boots.
• Not a single cell, molecule, atom in my body is interested in dating.
• There’s no interest in spending the time or making the room.
• I admit I have zero interest in small talk and getting to know new people at parties unless its about some kind of creative endeavour or really interesting stuff.
• Observing the game makes me tired and all I can think about is wanting to make a sock monkey or draw something and wish I was wearing PJs.
• I love my friends.
• I love my family.
• I love my kids and we are so damn close.
• I love my kids’ friends. I sometimes steal them.
• I love having freedom to laugh and be myself.
February 14, 2018
I wrote it to state THIS IS ME.
So what happened after this declaration?
I received so many messages of camaraderie and the article was shared on Rebelle Society. But what happened to me?
Upon reflection, I know that the declaration was an important statement to myself that I can and should express myself and my art fully. And though the year that followed contained a roller coaster of emotions and strange adventures, what unfolded inside me– slowly over the year– was an inner peace.
By openly declaring THIS IS ME– I allowed my creative process to be mine– very important state of being as I spent the year vomiting out the third draft Molly.
By declaring THIS IS ME– I was able to navigate an extremely deep depression and pull myself out.
By declaring THIS IS ME– I am able to choose my well-being over people pleasing, I am able to put up healthy boundaries while maintaining authentic connections, I am able to meet anxiety with self-compassion (and just let it be what it is instead of finding solutions).
I am able to sit at my kitchen table in a peACEful house, celebrate myself– and my life, my role as daughter and mother– celebrate myself for a job done as well as I am able, knowing everything from here on in is gravy as my children have reached their 30’s and I, me myself and I, rejoice in the joy of solitude.
On this Valentine’s Day– I am proud of being me- saggy, ugly, creative, lovely, too-loudly-laughing me.
Something has come to pass, you think, something more important than a mere flight over the ravine – Gwendolyn MacEwen